Like Lysistrata
by JWood201
Summary: After a fitful attempt at sleep, Gilligan sneaks away from camp before joining the rest of the men around the fire.  During "St. Gilligan and the Dragon."


_During "St. Gilligan and the Dragon."_

_I love this episode. Although the women do end up running back to the men when the second "monster" shows up, they come out of this episode looking far better than the men. They take care of themselves perfectly well, while the men can't cook or do laundry and stay up at night pouting and counting how long the women have been gone down to the second. And the women do get what they want, although no one discusses it - in the very next episode the girls and the Howells appear to have their own huts. Way to go, ladies. :)_

_Lovey:__ Lysistrata was a woman who lived thousands of years ago and she persuaded all the women in her town to ignore the men completely – unless they got what they wanted.  
><em>_Ginger:__ I think we should all act like Lysi – Lysi –.  
><em>_Lovey:__ Lysistrata, dear._

**Like Lysistrata**

The night was quiet and peaceful. The jungle on all sides of the women's new camp descended quickly into darkness, only the few closest trees were illuminated by the torches spaced around the clearing. Mary Ann was standing beside their new hut when the bushes behind her rustled. She didn't think much of it, used to the wind sweeping through the jungle. She made sure the blanket walls of their new home were secure and then lined their suitcases up by the door. She could hear Mrs. Howell and Ginger talking inside.

She was proud of them. The women had been standing their ground for almost three full days now. They had a roof over their heads and enough clothes and three square meals and they never argued about chores or duties or civil rights. She wanted to imagine that the men were having a rough time back in the main camp. They wouldn't have tried to scare them back if they were getting along just fine without them.

The bush rustled again. And then the bush next to it, the one closer to her.

It was probably just a monkey. They had seen a few on the island already. They were mostly harmless and kept out of the way except to take part in an enormous catastrophe or misunderstanding.

Mary Ann rounded the corner of the hut, preparing to go inside and join the other women. It had quickly become tradition since moving out on their own to gossip until all hours of the night. Although they were independent women now and still angry with the men, it seemed that the opposite sex was the only acceptable conversation around the female camp. Mrs. Howell told stories about her engagement to Mr. Howell and gave what she considered very valuable advice to her young charges. The first time Ginger told a wild lascivious story about some Hollywood wolves, she stopped just as she was getting to the good part and both women peered over at Mary Ann as if conflicted about continuing in her presence. It was true that Mary Ann didn't have much to contribute to the conversations, but she wasn't that naïve. If only they knew what she knew...

She told a few stories about that creep Horace Higgenbotham, but they paled in comparison to the tales told by the other ladies. They talked about famous men, normal men, rich men, blue collar men, old men, young men, men off the island, and, most importantly, men on the island. Ginger teased Mary Ann about her one past boyfriend and her not-so-subtle approach with the island's young sailor and all her future babies. Mrs. Howell gave them both knowing looks and pretended to be horrified by Ginger's tales. They discussed who they would run to if there was a real monster on the island and, although they liked to believe they would be able to handle it alone, they all knew who would end up without a woman clinging to him in the end and then they felt bad and turned to laughing at Ginger's tales of besotted fans. Their evenings were filled with laughter and it reminded Mary Ann of nights spent around the kitchen table gossiping with her Aunt Martha and her oldest cousin Rachel.

The plant closest to Mary Ann rustled.

And then it spoke.

"Mary Ann?" She froze, immobile as her eyes scanned the clearing. "Mary Ann!"

Mary Ann's eyes widened. "Gilligan?"

His white hat appeared over the top of the nearest pineapple bush, followed by his bright eyes. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

Gilligan looked up at her, guileless eyes wide. Just a hint of a smile pulled at his lips. "I came to see you."

Mary Ann's whole being sputtered for a moment and then roared back to life, reminding itself that it was angry with him. She crossed her arms. "Why? We're still mad at you."

"Me?" he squeaked. "What did I do? You know I don't get all that stuff about girls and rights and politics and Listerine."

"Lysistrata."

Gilligan shrugged. "I just go along with the other guys so I don't get in trouble."

Gilligan unconsciously rubbed his head where the Skipper always smacked him with his cap. Mary Ann sighed. "Okay. Hold on a second."

Mary Ann slipped into the hut and the laughter inside ebbed away. "I'm going to read outside for a while. I won't be late," she said, grabbing the cheesy romance novel she bought in the airport.

Ginger sighed. "Mary Ann, I don't know why you read those things. They're so unrealistic. Men don't act like that. They don't bring you flowers for no reason and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. They don't show up at your door in the middle of the night just because they want to see you."

Mary Ann caught herself just before she glanced back over her shoulder at the doorway. She shrugged. "It could happen."

Mary Ann went back outside, but heard Ginger sigh behind her. Mrs. Howell made a sad tutting sound. Mary Ann knew she was shaking her head. She heard a few mumbled words about how "young and naïve" the "dear girl" was, but she didn't care.

Mary Ann peered into the darkness. "Gilligan?" She was reaching for one of the torches when a hand grabbed her arm. She shrieked and quickly slapped the fat paperback book over her mouth. "Don't do that!" she hissed when she had recovered.

"Sorry," Gilligan whispered, tugging on her arm. "Come on."

Mary Ann let him lead her into the jungle. She could barely see three feet in front of her in the darkness and was glad he held tight to her arm as she followed his shadow as best she could. When they were far enough away from the hut, Gilligan plopped down in a soft patch of grass next to a bubbling stream. A shaft of moonlight cut through the canopy and lit the small clearing just enough so they could see each other.

Mary Ann planted her hands on her hips and stared down at him. "Did you really think that monster was going to scare us into coming back?"

Gilligan shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Sit down, Mary Ann."

"Did you?"

Gilligan squirmed in the grass. He crossed his legs, he folded and unfolded his arms. "Not really. Maybe." He rubbed the back of his neck and straightened his hat on his head. "I don't know."

"Well, it was silly," Mary Ann huffed. "We showed you that we can take down a monster."

"You sure did," he pouted, rubbing that spot on his head again. He winced.

Mary Ann knelt down beside him and removed his hat. She moved his head into the beam of moonlight and parted his hair. "Gilligan!" Mary Ann threaded her fingers through his hair and gently touched the welt growing on the side of his head. "Did I do that?"

Gilligan shrugged. "I don't know. Mrs. Howell's got a pretty strong arm. She's a lot tougher than she looks." Gilligan peered up at Mary Ann out of the corner of his eye as she held her hand softly over his injury. "You all are."

"I'm sorry, Gilligan." Mary Ann took her bandana out of her pocket and leaned over to soak it in the cold stream. She wrung it out and pressed it gently to Gilligan's head. "Here. A cold compress will help with the swelling."

"Thanks. Skipper told me to put a fish on it. He said when he got a black eye he used to hold raw meat on it."

"Tell me – how are you independent, capable leaders of men getting along without us fragile, delicate womenfolk?"

"Oh, real swell, Mary Ann. Skipper and I did the laundry today and Mr. Howell made dinner and then..." Gilligan deflated and turned to meet Mary Ann's questioning gaze. "It's awful. Mr. Howell burned the dinner until there was nothing left! I'm a growing boy, Mary Ann, I gotta eat! I need some of your pie!"

"You poor deprived man." Mary Ann almost rolled her eyes at the pathetic look on his face, but she was secretly thrilled to hear how the men were suffering without them.

"The Professor's shirt has holes all over it and I don't know how to get the clothes to smell nice like you do," he continued. "And the Skipper's trying to be all tough and strong about it, but he misses you ladies, too, I can tell. He's not good at any of this stuff either, but don't tell him I said so 'cause he'll keelhaul me. And Mr. Howell can't remember when to take his pills, so he takes one of each every hour and so he's gonna run out real soon and he'll probably die! And – and..." Gilligan turned away from her amused face and wrapped his arms around his knees. "And ... we can't sleep without you."

Mary Ann's smile slid off her face. Gilligan pouted and rested his chin on his raised knees, gazing out into the jungle. Mary Ann submerged the bandana in the cold stream again. "Why?" she asked as she pressed the cloth to his head.

He shrugged widely. "I don't know. We can't relax. Maybe we're worried about you."

"But we can take care of ourselves," Mary Ann reminded him gently.

"I know, but guys like to feel useful like that. Besides, something just doesn't feel right. It's calmer when you're all there. Even when the Howells are arguing," he added and they shared a knowing smile. "It's like ... it's like when it rains and the wind comes in and blows around and gets everything all stirred up and then the sun comes out and calms everything down and warms everything up. Us guys are like the wind and you're the sun."

They stared at each other for a moment, until Mary Ann sighed and turned away. She smoothed out the bandana and laid it over a rock to dry as he pulled his hat back on. She sat down next to him and wrapped her arms around her knees in an almost identical pose to his.

"The guys are all up sitting around the fire. We tried to go to sleep, but kept dreaming."

Mary Ann nudged him with her shoulder. "About us?"

"I don't know what the others were dreaming about, but when we woke up the Professor's shirt was all unbuttoned." Mary Ann raised her eyebrows at him questioningly, but he didn't elaborate. "I was a matador in mine. You girls brought me all sorts of swell stuff that would help me in my fight."

"Did you win?"

"No. You all left."

"Gilligan, are you telling me all these nice things so we'll come back?"

"No. I'm telling you because they're true. But I do want you to come back."

Mary Ann shook her head sadly. "I can't, Gilligan."

"But you've already been gone for sixty-one hours –," Gilligan consulted his watch, moving his wrist into the beam of moonlight, "twenty minutes and forty-two seconds."

Mary Ann grinned. "You guys are keeping track down to the second?" Gilligan nodded emphatically. "Gilligan, we're proving a point. We can get along with you, but you can't get along without us."

"I just told you that we can't get along without you!"

"But that doesn't count," she told him gently. "The Skipper and Mr. Howell and the Professor would never admit it. If we go back now they'll think they won."

Gilligan sighed heavily and rested his chin on his knees again. "So you really don't need us, huh?"

"Nope," Mary Ann chirped. "We built our hut and we find more than enough food. I caught two fish yesterday," she added proudly.

Gilligan looked up. "Yeah? What kind?" he asked, impressed.

"Slimy ones. They were good, though." Mary Ann shrugged. "Although, it is a little boring here sometimes. Without the Professor lecturing us about ferns and the Skipper telling his sea stories and Mr. Howell reading his only copy of _The Wall Street Journal_ every day and pretending it's new. And without you being you." Gilligan grinned and Mary Ann sighed again, gazing out into the dark jungle. "To tell you the truth, Gilligan, we stay up half the night gossiping because we don't sleep that well either. We're not really scared, we just feel better with you around."

"Then come home!"

"Gilligan, I can't! Nothing will change if we go back now. You guys have to suffer to appreciate us."

"Believe me, Mary Ann, we're suffering!" Gilligan pushed his bottom lip out in his most spectacular pout yet. "I wish Mrs. Howell had never brought up that Lusitania," he muttered.

Mary Ann laughed. "Lysistrata, Gilligan. She told us the full story last night. Lysistrata was a remarkable woman, really." Mary Ann leaned back against a rock and crossed her ankles in front of her. "The men were fighting this long drawn out war and the women had had enough. So they locked themselves in the fortress in the center of the city, cutting themselves off from the men completely until they gave in and stopped fighting." Mary Ann watched Gilligan's back as he untangled his arms from around his knees and sat up straight. Gilligan couldn't resist a good story, unaware as he was of the more risqué details that Mrs. Howell had delighted in telling them and that Mary Ann was now leaving out. Those ancient Greeks sure knew what made a memorable story.

Gilligan backed up and leaned against the rock next to her. "Cut them off from what?"

Of course he would ask. "Well ... everything. Love."

"That's what you're doing."

Mary Ann sputtered, throwing herself into a coughing fit. "Gilligan!" she exclaimed when she found her voice. "We are not! Well, maybe Mrs. Howell is, but –." Mary Ann shook her head. She didn't want to think about that.

"Yes, you are," he said, halfway innocent and halfway accusatory. "You most of all."

"_What?_"

"Us guys are doing stuff you don't like, so you came out here and shut yourselves up and cut us off."

"From cooking for you and doing your laundry," Mary Ann pulled Gilligan's hat off and tossed it in his lap so she could gesture to his head, "and taking care of you when you get a boo-boo and –."

"No. From love," Gilligan insisted, staring at her pointedly and Mary Ann went silent. "We all love each other, don't we?" he asked quietly, as if for the first time his assumption that this was true was being challenged. "Like a family. That's how families show it – they do stuff for each other. They help each other. We love you and we want you to come home and you love us so you're trying to make us act better. Right?"

Mary Ann blinked at him. She wasn't sure what to say. How Gilligan could reduce any situation down to its simplest essence never ceased to amaze her. She finally nodded. "Right."

They sat in silence for a few long moments. Mary Ann retrieved her romance novel from the grass and studied the picture on the front. The muscled, old-timey 1800's sailor stood on the deck of a magnificent ship with his arms wrapped around a tiny woman. Her dark hair and his open shirt fluttered in the breeze. The people in these books never fought about the laundry. In fact, they never even did laundry. The stories were incredibly cheesy and unrealistic on the surface, but underneath they were all about love and compassion and appreciation.

"You really don't think we appreciate you, do you?" Gilligan asked quietly.

"Not all the time."

Gilligan nodded seriously. "I'll go tell the guys that you were right and we were wrong and that we should ask you to come back."

Mary Ann shook her head. "They won't go for it."

"I'll tell them anyway." Gilligan got to his feet and helped Mary Ann stand. He retrieved her bandana from the rock and her book from the ground and handed them back to her. "I'll have them here before morning begging you to come back. And you'll get your own hut, too," he added defiantly.

"Thank you, Gilligan. How's your head?" Mary Ann pushed her bandana back into her jeans pocket and tucked her book under one arm. She slid one hand around his neck and pulled him down close to her to check on his injury.

"Sore, but not too bad," he said as Mary Ann ran her fingers through his hair, searching for the bump. "I'll be marked a traitor if the guys find out I came to see you."

Mary Ann moved his head to the side until the moonlight lit the welt and she could see it clearly. The swelling had gone down a bit. "I'll be marked a traitor if the girls find out I took care of your boo-boo."

Gilligan gave her his biggest, cheesiest grin. "You did it because you love me." Mary Ann rolled her eyes heavenward, but allowed herself a smile. His grin disappeared and he met her gaze sincerely. "And I appreciate it."

Mary Ann stood up on her toes and gently pressed her lips to the welt on the side of his head. She smoothed his hair back into place and then smacked him playfully on the back of the head. "Go home before you get in trouble."


End file.
